


and i'll be the one who remembers

by statusquo_ergo



Series: welcome to the neon city [5]
Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Prison, Prison, Season/Series 06, Things you said with no space between us, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statusquo_ergo/pseuds/statusquo_ergo
Summary: If I had a chance to do it over, I'd still be there for you.
Relationships: Mike Ross & Rachel Zane, Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Series: welcome to the neon city [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023864
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	and i'll be the one who remembers

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Things you said with no space between us
> 
> Set in an alternate version of Season 6 where Mike serves out his entire two-year prison term.

They sentence him to two years in prison. The prosecutors tell him it could’ve been worse, the judge tells him he should be grateful; he knows they’re right. Mike doesn’t complain.

Harvey does. Harvey does, and Rachel does. They argue at his hearing, and Rachel wants to appeal, but there’s no real standing for that, and it’ll be tossed before it gets to a higher court. She knows it will. Mike knows it too, and he doesn’t complain. It’s all been building to this, after all, everything they’ve done up to now. Everything they’ve gotten away with that they shouldn’t have.

Rachel tries to visit him on his very first day, but she’s not on his visitation list, and they turn her away with a weary sort of irritation and not much sympathy. They start the registration process immediately after she gets back to New York, she and Harvey do, and it’s supposed to be easy, but these things always seem to take more time than they should, somehow. They do what they can.

Mike doesn’t complain. It takes a little more than three weeks, the whole process from start to finish, but Mike waits.

Not much else to do these days.

\---

Mike walks into the visitation room with a smile on his face that brightens as he nears the plexiglass, that widens as he sits on the rickety stool in front of the long table and reaches across himself to pick up the telephone in his non-dominant hand so that he can press it to the unbruised side of his face.

“Hi,” he says. “Thanks for coming.”

On the other side of the glass, Rachel raises her hand to her mouth, and Harvey picks up the telephone.

“Mike,” he says. “What happened?”

Mike sits on his free hand to keep from touching his face.

“Oh this?” He raises his eyebrows like this is some kind of joke, because come on now, what a silly question that is. “I met some guy in here named Frank Gallo, I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Harvey’s face pales, and Rachel raises her other hand to cover her mouth, too.

“I put him away for racketeering,” Harvey says. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Mike grins. “Search me.”

Harvey frowns.

“I’m going to tell the warden,” he says. Rachel looks at him with some alarm, dropping her hands to the table, and Mike’s smile vanishes at once.

“Don’t do that.”

Harvey shakes his head. “I’m going to tell him,” he repeats. “I’m going to tell him the whole story.”

“Harvey.” Mike points at his mottled skin. “Harvey, if you tell the warden, Gallo is going to find out, and this’ll be _nothing_ compared to what he’s gonna do to me.”

Harvey’s knuckles turn white as he clutches the phone, pressing it to his ear, and Rachel looks between them, their one-sided conversation, and bites her lip.

These visits have a time limit, don’t they? They must, surely.

Mike smiles wide.

“So tell me about the firm.”

Harvey lowers his head, tapping his nail against the plastic receiver. After a moment, Rachel begins to cry.

Mike looks away.

\---

Prison happens on a learning curve.

After that first meeting, the one that left him feeling so hollow and cold, and so angry at himself for feeling that way, for being ungrateful, for being an entitled piece of shit— After that first meeting, Rachel promised to come visit him every day, even if she had to come alone, even if she didn’t have any news to bring him, even if there was no reason for her to be there. It was a stupid thing to promise, and she shouldn’t have done it, but she did, and Mike should have known better, and he should have warned her, but he didn’t, and that’s two hours now that she’s wasted driving out here, and two more she’ll waste driving back.

“It’s a points system,” his cellmate Kevin explains. “Beginning of the month you get twelve points, and every visit costs one. Two on weekends and holidays. Then next month you start over.”

Mike crosses his arms over his chest and tucks himself into the corner of his threadbare mattress, the matching blanket wadded up between his lower back and the dirty wall.

“That’s stupid,” he says.

“Yeah,” Kevin says. “What’re you gonna do.”

Not a goddamn thing.

\---

“Mike, you’re bleeding.”

Mike touches his lip gently, curving his wrist to hide the swelling around the joint as Harvey narrows his eyes.

“What happened?”

Mike smiles and tries not to wince when it pulls at the split.

“Gallo and I got in a little argument in the day room,” he says. “Guess I’m still not used to the pecking order around here.”

I hope I die before I figure it out. I hope that day is too far away for me to see it clearly. I hope I never learn how to live here, I hope I never learn how to make this place my home.

Harvey’s shoulders sag forward, his furrowed brow drawing his eyes down to the cracked paint and scratched aluminum holding up the plexiglass pane between them.

“Hey,” Mike says, rapping his knuckles against the window. “I’m fine.”

“No banging on the glass,” a guard rumbles behind him.

Mike winces, and Harvey presses his lips together tight.

“I tried to get you leave,” he says clumsily, forcing the words out one by one. “The warden owes me a favor, I thought— I thought he might go for it.”

“‘Leave’?” Mike repeats. “Harvey, I’m not in the army.”

Fighting for my life every minute of every day, I can see how you would make that mistake.

Harvey smiles, even though it wasn’t funny. He knows it wasn’t. Mike does, too.

“I tried,” he says anyway. “I thought he’d let you out for a day, or, or a couple of hours, I wanted to take you home, just for a little while, so you could see Rachel. So you could talk, I… I thought it might help.”

I thought it might help to give you a taste of everything you’ve lost. I thought it might make you happy for a minute or two.

Mike smiles again, pulling at the split.

“Tell her I said hi,” he says.

Tell her I understand why she’s stopped coming here. Tell her I forgive her. Tell her everything’s going to be okay.

Tell her I’ll always love her, and for both our sakes, I hope we never see each other again.

Harvey kneads his finger into the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ.”

Mike presses his palm to the plexiglass.

“Harvey. Harvey, Harvey, hey, stop it.”

Harvey laughs into his chest, and Mike bites his bloody lip.

“You! Hands off the glass!”

Mike flinches. Maybe he will get used to it, sooner or later, maybe it’ll all become second nature before too long.

Not today.

\---

Harvey isn’t the only one who cares about him. About what happens to him, about how he’s doing. About whether he lives or dies. Mike knows he isn’t. Even Harvey tells him as much, all the time, reminding him that he’s got people out there waiting for him, that he’ll be welcomed back at the firm with open arms when he gets out, that people ask about him sometimes, how he’s holding up and things. Harvey doesn’t have some kind of monopoly on giving him time and attention. Mike knows.

When he trudges out into the visitor’s room, when he picks up the phone and looks through the plexiglass, when Donna picks up the other receiver and looks back at him with a sad little smile on her face, he thinks maybe instead of sitting here, having some kind of conversation, maybe he’s going to go back to his cell and throw up.

“Hi Mike,” she says.

He swallows.

“Where’s Harvey?”

“Harvey’s fine.”

Mike narrows his eyes. That’s not what I asked.

“Where is he?”

Donna looks at him steadily, holding her shoulders back too tight.

“He’s in the hospital.”

So you’re a fucking liar, then. You lied to me.

“That doesn’t sound ‘fine.’”

No, no. Don’t be mean, Michael. It’s good of her to come and tell you in person.

“He has a stomach ulcer,” Donna says. “He’s going to be fine.”

Mike scowls.

“He doesn’t sound fine.”

Donna shakes her head.

“He is,” she says. “He will be. He needs to make sure he takes care of himself, that’s all. They gave him antibiotics, and he just needs some rest. He wanted me to come tell you what happened, he didn’t want you to worry.”

He’s looking out for you in your time of need. He only wants what’s best for you. He’s doing everything he can to help you. He’s working himself to death for you. Don’t worry about it. Everything is going to be fine.

Mike tangles the telephone cord in his fist and pulls it taut.

“God dammit,” he mutters.

Donna’s face goes sort of flat.

“How are you doing?” she asks after a minute.

Mike bangs his elbow on the edge of the table when he reaches to touch his black eye.

Oh, that’s right. These things happen, I suppose. There’s so much to keep track of, I forget about this and that.

“Don’t tell Harvey,” he says.

She sighs a sad little sigh.

Don’t worry about a thing.

\---

Harvey shouldn’t be here. Harvey has a stomach ulcer, and he needs to rest. He should be at home, he should be in bed taking a nap, he should be curled up on the couch with a bowl of soup, he should be taking his antibiotics and relaxing and getting better.

Mike picks up the phone.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Harvey smiles.

“Hello to you, too.”

“ _Harvey._ ”

Harvey rests his hand on his lapel, a little too close to his heart. “I’m okay,” he says. “These things happen all the time, it’s no big deal.”

That’s a lie. You’re a fucking liar, you’re fucking lying to me. You’re lying to me to make me feel better, you’re lying to me because you don’t want me to feel useless even though I am, even though I know it, and so do you.

Mike clenches his fist in his lap and accidentally pinches a bit of skin between his fingers.

Hands off the glass, you little shit.

“Harvey,” he says, “why did you come?”

Harvey shrugs.

“I couldn’t leave you here all alone.”

Of course you could. Of course you should.

“Thank you,” he says anyway. “Thanks.”

You shouldn’t have done it, though. You shouldn’t have made this mistake. I hate that you’re making yourself sick over me, I hate that you’re putting me first. I hate myself for being grateful that you’re here.

Harvey smiles.

\---

Fresh air hits different when it’s not blowing through a chain link fence.

Mike steps out through the prison door and takes a deep breath. Has the sun always been this bright? Has the light always felt so warm, the wind so soft through his hair? This big, wild stretch of nothing, of nobody, of the whole world spread out before him to go wherever he wants, do whatever he wants, be…whoever he is. This whole life stretching out before him, just waiting for him to take it.

“Hey.”

Nothing and nobody except for you and me.

He opens his eyes, narrowed against the glare, and there’s Harvey, standing in the parking lot. There’s Harvey, waiting for him to come through the gate. There’s Harvey, waiting to drive him home.

Harvey, who’s always been there.

And now it’s over, and there he is.

And here we are.

“You look good.”

You fucking liar.

Mike walks through the gate, out into the parking lot, and grabs Harvey as tight as he can and doesn’t let go.

After all this time, all these days and weeks and months, all we have is this. For a moment, for now, all I want is this.

Harvey lifts his arms and wraps them around Mike’s shoulders, and holds on. He holds on when Mike tucks his chin into the crook of his neck, and he holds on when Mike’s breath shudders like he might start crying, and he holds on when the tears almost fall, and he holds on when they don’t.

This is what I’ve been missing.

Mike presses in close and holds on tight, and Harvey doesn’t let him go.

“Mike,” Harvey murmurs. “I’m so proud of you.”

Mike grabs Harvey’s coat in his fist and presses his face against his shoulder, and Harvey rubs his hand down Mike’s back.

“You did good.”

Mike sniffles, and Harvey sighs into his hair.

“I’ve got you.”

And I always, always will.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to say hi on [tumblr](https://statusquoergo.tumblr.com)!


End file.
